Harry Potter and the Clichéd Story with no Plot
by A Dark Envy
Summary: And the Fanfiction.net personnel said "Let there be a story with a plot and limited clichés." And it was thus, that I wrote this story. OOC, Mary Sues, and a sarcastic author. Yay.
1. Harry and the BSB

It was a dark rainy night in Privet Drive; there were no movements outside and not a single sound could be heard aside from the constant rain patters upon the residents' windows and the creaking of the tree branches as they swayed back and forth. All of the residents of Privet Drive were deep in sleep from a long day's activities and so, the stormy weather outdoors wasn't a bother to anyone in the least.

Except for one resident in Number Four.

He was an odd boy with a few quite distinguishable characteristics; He had jet-black hair and bottle-green eyes that had almost an electricity to them. And then, there was that scar which rested on the top of his forehead, which was, perhaps, one of the most distinguishing things about this young man.

His name, was Harry Potter.

And he was in the middle of watching Cops on cable television.

"Baaaad boys! Whatcha goin'- whacha goin' dooooo?" He howled as he ate his last bag of licorice drops. Most people seemed to loathe the taste of black licorice drops, but young Harry was enthralled by their disgustingly rich flavour. Perhaps it was symbolic for his individualism.

Or maybe he was just a really sick bastard.

Whatever the reasons, Harry Potter was wide awake and very much enjoying the licorice drops he downed by the handful. And since the title of this story already states that this plot will be going absolutely nowhere at all anytime soon, in a few short sentences, Harry will rudely be interrupted by something that has absolutely nothing to do with the plot of this story. Right. About. Now.

Pop!

Harry turned around startled, his mouth full of licorice drops and the black colored drool seeping down from the corners of his mouth in a rather grotesque way. He was startled and could not move, for what stood before him was a terrible site; once that Harry dreamed he would never have to see a day of his miserable life:

The Backstreet Boys wearing capes and holding wands.

"Oh my god we're back agaaaain!" AJ belted in his extremely nauseating off-key howl. Harry choked on a licorice drop.

"W-what are you doing here? This isn't right! I'm supposed to be kidnapped by Lucius Malfoy and become his boy toy and eventually fall madly in love with him! See?" Harry asked as he handed Brian a copy of the script which so conveniently appeared for the sake of moving this-no-plot-story forward.

"Dude…That's not a script…that's your fantasy journal."

"What do you mean?" Harry demanded.

"Well…on the cover, it says "Harry Potter's Fantasy Journal" so…one can only assume…"

"Oh alright…so I have the hots for a character who only ends up raping me in these fiction stories? So. What. That still doesn't explain why you're here and...dressed like Wizards."

"Harry," Kevin explained, "Any group of obviously gay men who can convince millions of teenieboppers to think otherwise MUST be working some kind of magic."

"Yeah, We have the magic stick."

(Insert peverted laugh here)

"Harry," Nick asked in a serious voice as he took the journal out of his hands, "May I ask you a question?"

"Sure. What?"

"Am I originaaaaaal?"

"Oh dear god." Harry exclaimed.

"Am I the only oneeeee?"

"Yeaaah!" The other Boys cried out.

"Am I sexuaaaaal?"

"I tend to think so," Severus Snape responded as he threw a pair of frilly pink thongs at Nick. And then, for the sake of humor…the author inserted a big pause.

(Big Pause)

"What are you doing here, Professor Snape?" Harry asked, even more confused than he was a few seconds ago.

"Well Potter, I just couldn't wait to make you life a living hell and let my greasy-headed-hook-nosed-billowing-cape persona wait to make its entrance towards the middle of the story. Besides, I think Nick's a sexy beast."

"Professor Snape…I think you're a bit disturbed."

"But yeah, Harry," The other Backstreet boy that everyone tended to forget about because he was Hispanic and not a fair skinned European, "We're you're Advanced Guard now!"

"Yeah, and now we've got to take you to an undisclosed location that looks remarkably like Sirius Black's home!"

And so, Harry was escorted by Professor Snape and the Backstreet Boys to the Undisclosed Location that looked remarkably like Sirius Black's home.


	2. Capt Siriusly Delusional

Author's Note: If you're horribly confused by the end of the last chapter, I must be doing my job.

* * *

And so, after the clicking of the Next Chapter Button, the group of extremely odd and particularly queer wizards arrived in front of Sirius Black's home.

"Hey…You never explained exactly why I had to go with you all in the first place," Harry questioned.

"Because, you fucktard. Stop asking questions about this completely ridiculous story."

"I couldn't have said it better myself, Nick Carter," Professor Snape said nodding.

"I'm sure you could have…Sex-verus," Nick said as he made a rather disturbing tongue action to Snape that I would rather not have a detailed description of at this present moment. And then, the two threw each other on the floor and engaged in sexual activity.

"EW! They're GAY!" Harry screamed as he covered his eyes and rocked back and forth on the ground.

"Shut up and observe your Godfather walk out of his home looking like an extremely sexy sex god," The Author interrupted.

...Sure enough…there was Sirius Black in all of his glory looking horribly like Johnny Depp in his Pirates of the Caribbean wardrobe and make-up.

Actually, it was Johnny Depp in his Pirates of the Caribbean wardrobe and make-up.

Fortunately for the author of this horribly written story, none of the female readers seemed to notice as they read Johnny - I mean, Sirius's description which became to sound less and less like Gary Oldman from the POA movie…

_…And his kohl lined eyes held such a light about them, that even when his long raven hair fell into them, they still held their luminosity…and also his shirt was ripped so all the female readers could admire his sexy dirty body and get all giddy and have naughty thoughts run through their minds that their parents probably wouldn't approve of..._

"Hi Sirius," Harry said as he helped his drunken Godfather to walk in a straight line.

"Ahoy luv. Y'know, me thinks you've grown since last me saw, savvy? But that's all cock and bull. Where's that damned Alan Rickman fella so I can have my big confrontation with him?"

"It would seem that he was engaged in a rather…disgusting activity over there in your shrubberies." Harry said motioning to the two lovers engaged in an extremely NC-17 rated activity behind the shrubberies.

"Well…I'll just wait until later then, I reckon. Now…come on in here so we can ignore you completely and not tell you about the prophecy that we're guarding in the Ministry of Magic, alright?"

"Sirius, that was Order of the Phoenix. And…you died in that book."

"Oh. Well…um…I'm back? Well, come in anyway because we've got to get this plot moving along."

So…in a horrible transition from the outdoors' raunchy activities, Harry and Sirius Depp walked inside the house and Harry was once again at a loss for words.

"You see Harry, this is a top secret operation for the Pentagon that you're involved in. We have to have you crack codes inside of various magazines and inject this chip into your arm so that you can be a part of our organization."

"You know…I think this plot is very familiar."

"No it isn't! Your name is not John Nash and you aren't a schizophrenic and by the end of this story, we will totally not have to give you Insulin injections. Okay?"

"Um…sure."

"Now…If you'll just follow me over to this machine that really doesn't exist, I'll have you observe the patterns in -"

"SIRIUS BLACK! I thought I told you to stay in bed!" Mrs. Weasley bellowed as she grabbed him by his ear and drug him our of the room. "Sorry Harry, but Arthur was showing Sirius this darned satellite television contraption and now, he thinks he's in those Muggle films. Well, don't just stand there and gape, love, come one in."

"Well, it's just that…I'm finding this all a little to hard to believe, Mrs. Weasley. Only an hour ago, I was eating Licorice drops and watching Cops and now…well, it's just a bit…extreme."

"Oh, it's going to be alright, love. Would you like to go upstairs and scream mercilessly at your two best friends in the world for not writing to you all summer?"

"Mrs. Weasley…that was Book Five."

"Hmm. Well, go do it anyway. I've got yelling to do."

And so, Harry met up with Hermione and Ron and explained to them all of the recent events which just happened…and neither really noticed because they were too busy arguing about nothing in specific.

"No, A woodchuck does NOT chuck wood, that's the point of the joke, Ron!"

"Bloody hell, Hermione! They do so otherwise, why do the call them woodchucks?"

"Don't ask me, ask a nice encyclopedia - oh wait, that's right…you can't read!"

"Well…at least I'm not a dyke!"

"Um…guys…can we pause this worthless argument for…a few minutes while the author plans the next horrible twist in the story?" Harry pleaded.

"But, what if she hasn't really got any twists planned?" Ron questioned

"Oh, she will." Harry replied assuringly.

_Bam._

"You're good, Harry."

Hermione jumped into Ron's arms. "W-What was that noise?"

"I dunno, but whatever it was...thank god for it," Ron said as he sniffed Hermione's hair and exhaled slowly.

"I think it's coming from the convienently placed attic! Let's nose around in things that have absolutely nothing to do with us which could cause us great peril!" Harry said gallantly.

"Okay!"

With this murmur of agreement, the trio set off into the deep, dark, and very dirty attic to move the non-existant plot along some more.


	3. OOC Hermione and Bob

Author's note: Yeah…all my faithful readers who might come across this author's note: This is the story that I fear will have to replace "The Makings." Pfft. Makes me extremely pissed off, but there isn't much I can do about it, now is there? Apologies to the…200 some odd readers who faithfully read and reviewed my story. May the personnel rot in…sugar cookies. And now, on with the fiction.

* * *

    "Y'know Harry," Ron said as he gingerly swatted at the cobwebs in the attic, " I don't understand why you're always the one that almost gets us killed…and why we're always stupid enough to follow you."

    "It's rather simple, Ron. It's because I'm Harry Potter and you're Ronald Last-name-is-irrelevant. The name of the series is devoted to me…not you. So, you're secondary to absolutely everything in this story. Your opinions don't matter. You only exist for comic relief and to give me a best friend who is gullible and all-too agreeing with everything I say. Understand?"

    "Yes Harry…you've made it all too clear to me," Ron said huffily.

    "Harry…I don't think we should be going into Sirius's attic like this." Hermione interjected. "What if-"

    "Hermione, go cry your eyes out to Professor Snape and get into some kind of illicit affair."

    "Can't. He's still shagging Nick Carter. Bloody Backstreet Boys. What does Nick Carter have that I don't, Ron?"

    "Um…You're really asking the wrong person here." Ron said pointing suggestively to Harry.

    "I mean, what do I have to do to attract his attention? Become a mindless fool?"

    "I'm not saying-"

    "-Should I start doing drugs or start sleeping with people I don't know-?"

    "-Well I-"

    "-Should I start wearing shorter skirts and expose my cleavage?"

    "It really wouldn't hurt to try."

    "Okay."

And so, the readers were now introduced to their new completely OOC Hermione Granger with really large boobs.

And Ron did rejoice.

    "Alright guys, I think I see a light up ahead." Harry said.

    "Omg, it's like…so pretty and whatever!" Hermione exclaimed as her large breasts bounced up and down in Ron's face.

    "Oh yeah, -er…really pretty."

    By then, Harry was a bit through with all of the sexual tension between Ron and Hermione and he finally screamed. "You two…really need to stop."

    "What? I'm not doing anything!" Ron said as Hermione kept kissing his face fervently and leaving lipstick marks all over his face.

    "Urgh. That's it. I refuse to take part in this…sex fest! I'm on my own!"

So Harry was forced to go through the exit of the attic all on his own.

And Ron was forced to shag Hermione in the attic all on his own.

    "Damn OOC Hermione Granger! It's ridiculous! What's going on here?!? This has to be perhaps one of the most bizarre things that has ever happened to me! If only there was a beautiful girl with long, flowing blonde hair and deep crystalline blue eyes that caught rays of sunshine and whose fair complexion was like no other. If only there was this really intelligent girl who was related to absolutely everyone in the Harry Potter series who is simultaneously a professor at Hogwarts and a Dragon Tamer in Romania AND who has a name so long and exotic that it'd take spell check hours to catch up with the author's typing. I bet she'd help me to understand what's going on."

    And suddenly…

    "Hello Harry Potter," A beautiful blonde haired girl with long, flowing blonde hair and deep crystalline blue eyes which caught rays of sunshine and whose fair complexion was like no other said.

    "How did you know my name?"

    "I'm a seer/princess/witch/vampire/veela/werewolf, Harry. I know everything."

    "Oh."

    "Yes, I am Evanella Claudette Destrunia Andette Bellatrix Sabrina Selena Serena Anjelic Catherine L'trenia Brianna Ana-Maria Janis Audette Jolie Eva Octavia Elizabeth Dumbledore Castro Bush Black Lupin Potter Lestrange Bob, but you may call me Bob."

    (Spell Check works furiously to catch up)

    "Well…okay Bob. You know…your facial features are perfect…and I think you're anatomically correct."

    "You have to be If you want to be the Advisor to the Minister of Magic/Dragon tamer/ brain surgeon/undercover Auror /Spy. It's practically a necessity," Bob explained sweetly.

    "I can't believe my luck! Would you be willing to -"

    "Help you find out what's wrong with the story's plot?"

    "-Yeah! How did-"

    "I know?"

    "-Yeah…you know that's kind of-"

    "Scary and bordering on extremely annoying?"

    "Er-right."

    "Well…I can't tell you now, because I can't afford to blow my cover, Harry. But if you'll follow me, I'll take you to a place where I can speak candidly about everything."

…And the Author decided to pause the story here for a day only to resume its craziness the next day.


	4. Malfoys Do Not Wank Off

Author's Note: Two things have come to my attention lately:

1) People question my taste in music. Now, don't get me wrong, I love rock music and am actually a HXC Led Zeppelin fan, but BSB was easiest to fit in…and they'll actually play a role in this horrible mess of a story.

2)Bush and Castro somehow appeared in there…and I'm not exactly sure how. Shows you where my mind is when creating long drawn out names.

3) There is no third thing.

But honestly, thanks thus far for the reviews. Makes me almost worthy of…feelings. Ahem, Chapter 4.

* * *

"Now Harry…I want you to sniff this Floo powder," Bob explained to Harry as they approached a fireplace that appeared somewhere in between the third chapter and this current chapter. 

"Er, come again?"

"Sniff the powder, Potter."

"I don't think that's entirely legal…and what about the -"

"Look…I'm not here to encourage the usage of cocaine…but while we're here and since there is absolutely no trace of intelligent readers out there…I figure you might as well."

"But, I don't want -"

"C'mon Potter. Succumb to the peer pressure."

"Okay," Harry said as he inhaled the Floo powder and became extremely giddy.

"Good…now say "My Dixie Wrecked."

"My Dixie…wait. That pun only works when written; it couldn't possibly work if said out loud."

"Damn you and your intelligence. Alright, well…I suppose we should finally do something to contribute to the plot now, so…c'mon. Diagon Alley."

"Diagonally."

"No, no. We've been through this joke before and it wasn't funny in theatres either. I see we'll just have to insert some kind of pretty border that lazy authors use when they don't want to describe the transition from one scene to the next."

* * *

(>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>Ooh and Ahh>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>)

* * *

"Okay Harry," Said Bob as they landed into their new scene…which has not yet been established by the author, "there are a few things that I need to explain to you…reasons why this plot makes absolutely no sense whatsoever." 

(Big dramatic pause)

"What's that?"

"It's because you're The One, Harry."

"Oh god."

"Yes, and until you take your place and defeat the evil monkeys controlling the system, then we will forever be enslaved."

"By the monkeys?"

"Is that what said earlier? Oh, it is. Yes Harry, the monkeys."

"And I suppose I am also the Heir of Slytherin?"

"Yes."

"And Voldemort's Son?"

"Uh-huh."

"And the inventor of mayonnaise?"

"Actually, that'd be the French," Sirius Depp said in his Pepe Le Peu accented voice. And all the fan girls had their little hearts melted and then rainbows appeared and there was happiness everywhere. Only, that isn't the ending yet, so let us resume the story.

"Alright then. I suppose we must face absolute danger and peril to do something extremely simple, am I wrong?"

"Of course. And the peril begins at the Malfoy Manor."

_Oh shit. Why do we have to go there?_ Harry mused in _i__talicized _font. Or questioned. Or pondered. Or said in his head in a most peculiar fashion since he is incapable of simply thinking in fanfiction.

"Technically…we have to have some sort of confrontation in this story that almost makes some sense. So…yes. How about those pretty borders, eh?"

* * *

( >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>This is so much fun! >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>)

* * *

"Gee, for reasons I cannot explain and bymeans of which I cannot exactly speak of either, we've somehow made our way into Draco Malfoy's room!" 

"And look," Sirius said pointing, "There's the wanker wanking off!"

(Insertion of long boring details about how Draco Malfoy is a big git, prat, or both.)

"We Malfoys do not wank off." Draco Malfoy exclaimed as he performed an action that was most certainly and most assuredly not wanking off. "If we did wank off, then we could most assuredly not be Malfoys for Malfoys do not wank off and so, if I was indeed wanking off, it could then be assumed that I was not a Malfoy, but some imposter with sexy blonde hair and blue eyes wanking off."

(Author now holds the record for most consecutive times the word "wank" was appeared in a fan fiction and the longest philosophical thought that means absolutely nothing.)

"Right. Draco, I think we need your help. You see -"

"No time. Potter. I'm supposed to be brooding and wallowing in my own misery right now and wishing nothing more than to be a really great guy who can end up dating The Weasel's younger sister."

"Really?"

"Of course, Potter." Draco Malfoy sneered ina way that only Draco Malfoy can in Harry Potter Fanfiction."And after that, I'm going to be raped by Voldemort, impregnate Mudblood Granger and become a cover boy on Playgirl Magazine for Wizards."

"You know, Draco…you're not the first person today to have acted so…out of character. It's actually frightening."

"Don't be frightened my love," Draco whispered soothingly in Harry's ear, "let daddy Draco kiss your tears away…let me…hold you."

"Oh yeah, baby!" Sirius exclaimed as he jumped into Draco's arms.

"Urgh. Enough of this. Let's just get to the really hidden plot point here. Draco, what were you doing this morning?"

"Um…after I combed my hair 87362512637383 times…and after I slit my wrists…and after I wrote a love letter to Granger and -"

"My point exactly. You know who I think will be able to explain these…happenings?"

"Cho Chang!" Sirius shouted.

"No."

"Luna Lovegood!"

"No, and will you stop naming characters who don't matter in the least to the story's plot?"

"There's a plot?"

(Cricket noises)

"…I think Dumbledore will be some assistance to us all. Off to Hogwarts we go!"

And it was thus that our trio became a …group of four and set off to find Headmaster Dumbledore. Will Dumbledore be able to explain the peculiar things going around in fan fiction land? Will Harry ever get to the bottom of the situation? Will Draco ever appear on the cover of Playgirl Magazine for Wizards? Find out soon!


	5. In Dumbledore's Office

:D

Thanks. Now. Let's. Continue. With. The. Story. Okay. Yeah. Mmmbop.

* * *

"So Harry, what do you intend to do if Dumbledore can't help us?" Draco sneered. 

"You know what Draco, I haven't thought about that yet. But I'm pretty certain that not even a seriously delusional person could ruin Dumbledore's image."

"Yeah, or my name isn't Sirius Black!"

"Siriusl-"

"Stop it. Just…stop it. Now, I think we all should just calmly knock upon the headmaster's office door and-"

_Boom._

"Damn you Sirius!" Harry exclaimed.

"It's not my fault! Blame the wanker!" Draco frowned and put his buldger back in his pants.

Bob was begining to loose her extremly flexible and long-stretching patience with the group."Sirius, stop using the same old British colloquialisms over and over again, its a drag."

"Shut your face, you prat-faced git, or I'll bloody ring your phone, you jolly old crumpet!"

"Is there some way I can be of some assistance to you four?" Albus Dumbledore inquired from behind his desk.

"Oh right! Um…Professor Dumbledore, something is horribly wrong!"

"Now Harry, I've told you once before that if you continued to put your penis in that vacuum cleaner that-"

"No, not that problem."

"Oh, I'm sorry…continue?"

"Yes, well…everyone seems to be acting very abnormal today! Professor Snape is shagging Nick Carter of the Backstreet Boys, Hermione's assets have grown out-of-control, Sirius thinks he's a B-rated actor-"

"Ahem…B-_plus_, thank you very much."

"-There's a hot girl related to everyone in the series and Draco…well, never mind. But Professor, there has to be an explanation for all of this!"

"Indeed," Professor Dumbledore agreed knowingly from behind his half-moon spectacles "There is something horribly out-of-sync with the events of recent, Harry. But I must implore you to not ask me any questions that I cannot answer to you…"

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"I'm not quite sure; I'm never understandable in these fan fictions. But the point that I'm trying to get to…is that these recent happenings have been occurring for one simple reason-"

"Voldemort is back and he wants to kill me!" Harry curled into a ball and rocked back and forth on the ground while murmuring "I'll never tell."

"Why does it always have to be about you? Hmm? Ever asked yourself that, you silly little shit?" Draco said while poking Harry with a randomly placed fork.

Harry began to cry. The fork prongs were hurting his delicate skin. "It's cause I'm white…isn't it?"

"SHUT UP!" Dumbledore bellowed in uppercased font.

The annoying verbal beat downs ceased. The caps lock was released as well.

"Thank you. The reason that everything has been occurring…is because of _**The Fan Fictionist**_."

(Horror music inserted here)

"Ooh. **_The Fan Fictionist_**."

(Horror music played once again)

"Yes, _**The Fanfictionist**_-"

(Horror music begins to play, but is abruptly ended by what the reader must assume to be an extremely angry man with a sledgehammer)

"Ahem…thank you. As I was saying, the author of this fan fiction is a little lonely girl somewhere in a suburban town who has no friends and listens to Kurt Cobain (No offence…) all day long. She wears black nail polish and often reads anime all day and writes in an online diary where pedophiles are most likely to wank off to her 'private' thoughts. Currently, she writing a Male Pregnancy fiction with Sirius Black and Remus Lupin."

"YES!" Sirius did his sexy dance.

"No, Sirius! Don't you see? The person who is writing this story isn't the real author; she's just some poseur wannabe who lives in the United States!"

"Yeah, and they don't even have crumpets over there," Draco snorted.

"So, what are _we_ to do about it?"

"Well first of all, _you_ have to find **_The Fanfictionist_**."

(Music faintly plays in the background but shuts off quickly)

"But…how do we do that?"

"Oh, I'm sure Hermione can find a way. She always was the most intellectual of the lot of you."

"Hermione's a bimbo now, remember?"

"Hmm. Isn't life a bitch? Just…remember my last, Harry."

"You mean when you told me to mount the bed with the whips and-"

"No…the last before that."

"Oh, right. The fate of the world lies in my hands."

"Exactly. So, be swift to find that fan fictionist. And whatever you do, do not allow Sirius to be seduced by Remus, or the fates of everyone in our world might reach a tragic end. The lives you've become accustomed to could be overrun with slash, Mpreg, OOC, Angst and love, unreasonable suicide wishes-"

"Heh, the way he says it, it makes you think there are _reasonable_ ones." Draco sniggered and elbowed Bob.

"-And worst of all…Mary Sues."

Bob whistled to herself.

"So, stay the course and find the evil fan fictionist and destroy her story before it causes any further damage and whatever you do…keep Remus the hell away from Sirius. He'll be very persuasive and he'll do anything to fufill the plot of the story so…be on the watch."

"Thank you Dumbledore," Harry said as the other members of his group walked out of the room.

"One more thing, Harry…"

"Yes Professor?"

"Get 'r done."

"Pardon?"

"Get 'r done."

"I fail to see the relevance of-"

"Just remember that, alright? And…good luck."

"Er-right. Bye Professor."

* * *

_Over the rivers and though the woods_

_To the fan fictionist's house we go._

_We don't know the way_

_But Draco will slay_

_Anyone who gets in our way, though._

_Over the river and through the woods_

_To the fan fictionist's house we go._

_We'll cut off her toes_

_And pick at her nose_

_Until severed pieces remain._

* * *

This...is the reason that I do not write poetry. 

:D


End file.
